Swear
by Scripta Lexicona
Summary: Will you promise me something?" L and Light. Only implied BL.


AN: I really didn't know what to rate this or what genre to put it under. Also, I apologize if L seems a little OOC. He's such a pain sometimes. I had a conversation similar to this once and seemed especially poignant between these two.

On a stupid note, I'm happy that according to this site, this is exactly 1000 words (excluding AN and random bits).

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**Swear**

"Will you promise me something?"

"Sure."

L's lips quirked slightly. "That easily?"

Light smiled indulgently and tightened the arm around the older man's pale shoulders as his fingers idly fiddled with some of the unruly ebony locks. "I'll certainly try."

L raised his head from the junction between Light's neck and shoulder and propped himself up on his arms, one on the teen's chest, the other on the pillow. The late October sunrise was filtering through the slitted blinds, giving the room a golden touch and casting Light's features in a particularly flattering manner. Not to say, of course, that he didn't always appear rather immaculate.

"Will you die after me?" The pallid face was expressionless as usual but the bottomless eyes were open, searching. Light frowned in puzzlement, the hand in L's hair stilling.

"What do you mean?"

"I want to die first." Now the brunet's face grew irritated and his fingers tightened reflexively, a little painfully.

"Ryuuzaki, I'm beginning to think that you're looking forward to your death," he replied with a touch of ice.

L cast him a look that clearly conveyed he found the remark to be beneath the teen. "You know very well that isn't true, Light-kun. You are also well aware that should any of our identities be discovered while investigating this case, we will most certainly be eliminated. Myself in particular. But…."

Light's eyes softened and his grip relaxed. "We're being careful, Ryuuzaki. You especially. Isn't that the reason for this?" He lifted his left arm, letting the chain dangle before them, the morning rays bouncing in blinding little sparks off the links. "We'll catch Kira before he can find us and then we'll be safe again."

L was silent, no longer looking at Light but rather looking through him at something intangible. Then he seemed to gather himself and fixed the teen with that deadpan stare.

"The fact remains that at some point, regardless of when it is, we will die. And I just wanted … to be first." Because L didn't want to be left behind.

_"I'm a lot stronger than I look, you know."_ He'd told Light that once – in an entirely different situation – and while he'd been referring to his physical strength at the time, the same held true for most of what constituted L. Strength in intelligence, strength in resolutions and convictions, strength in the belief that he was right. Strength, it seemed, in everything but this.

He could count on one hand the people close to him and have fingers left over. And no one had ever been with him as Light was. No one matched him the way Light did and he'd become increasingly and irrationally afraid of losing that.

_"I would never dream about living in a world without Light!"_

_"Yes, that would be dark."_

At the time L had been deliberately manipulating Misa and by extension Light as well, the comment no more than a flippant off-hand remark. Ironic then, that something that had initially been uttered in mild sarcasm – and just generally _sappy_ – should be true. But it was. It _would_ be dark without Light, figuratively speaking. L was a prism and with Light all the hidden things were cast into sharp and colorful relief. Without Light, the prism was pointless, just a piece of glass. L's well-developed imagination could easily draw up that reality and he wanted no part of it.

Light drew L closer and traced his jawline with a few of his skilled fingers. "You won't be lost without me." As usual the teen had delved into the older man's deeper meaning, voicing it aloud.

"I don't know if I believe that," L returned softly, voice barely audible.

"Come on. You're _L_. You're a brilliant detective with the backing of every police force in the world. You can't tell me that you'd let _one_ person, _me_, upset that."

L's eyes rolled up to contemplate the ceiling as he gave a wispy sigh. "It certainly makes no sense, but that does seem to be the case. The fact is I've grown so attached to you that the idea of being separated has greatly distressed me." There was a sort of morbid humor to be taken in the way he said it, as though he were reciting any random theory rather than a soul-bearing admission. "I don't think I could…." The man abruptly shut his mouth and began a fierce staring match against Light's collar bone.

"And what makes you think that I can?" the brunet said lightly, trying lift L's morose spirit. L disengaged from his staring contest with Light's clavicle and met his eyes instead, searching the hazel orbs for a moment.

"I think you could," he finally stated simply. Now it was Light's turn to be silent as something swelled between them, unspoken but intense. The inky reflective pools of L's eyes were wordlessly entreating and Light let himself be drawn in. He was still amazed at the expressiveness of those eyes, concealing so many things but also so open if only you could navigate the depths and find the hidden trove beyond where there were no lies, no manipulations, just L.

And so eventually Light sighed and bent forward to press a lingering kiss in the man's ever-mad post-coital coiffure (as if it _needed_ the aid in disarrangement).

"You realize I can't guarantee anything."

"Yes."

"And I don't really think you would be affected as badly as you seem to believe."

"Yes."

"So this is kind of ridiculous."

"Yes."

"Alright." Light gave another tiny sigh then took L's chin in his hand, stroking his cheek with his index finger and looking directly into those pools.

"I promise. You will die first."

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Originally written 29 May '08


End file.
